


The New Eden

by 1treehill



Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 09:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16092908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1treehill/pseuds/1treehill
Summary: A former member of Charles Manson's family finds his way to Holden Ford, and an odd relationship is formed.





	1. Chapter 1

Holden Ford yawned as he closed a fat file folder containing all the pertinent information on the most recent case he and his partner Bill Tench had worked on. A rather mundane disorganized killer whose four victims had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, when the killer apparently lost his mind. Well, mundane for the BSU maybe. There seemed to be no philosophy or interesting psychological motive behind the acts. In a way, killings like these were more frightening to Holden than those committed by organized killers, whether that made sense or not. The randomness of the murders frankly scared him. Somehow, finding an organized thought process in a murderer comforted Holden. He didn’t want to know what that said about him.

Holden’s phone rang, startling him out of his musings.

“Hello,” Holden greeted.

“Hey, Holden,” a man answered back. “It’s Jack from Harrisburg PD. You worked with us a few months back?”

“Oh, right, Jack,” Holden answered hesitatingly, trying furiously to match the man’s voice with a face. “How can I help you?”

Jack responded, “It’s how I can help you. I remember that you’re kind of a repeat murderer fan, and I just met a man who used to be part of the Manson Family. Twelve years ago he lived at Spahn with Manson, and he just walked into the department wanting to talk to somebody about his experience and expecting help in getting Manson out of jail. Can you believe that shit?”

“What?” Holden practically shouted. “First of all, did he have proof that he was part of the group? And in what way does he think you’d be able to help free Manson? He must be nuts.”

“He had photos of himself with the man himself. As to his mental state, he believes Manson is Jesus. That’s sort of the definition of insane in my mind,” Jack said, laughing. “I considered just kicking his ass out, but then I remembered you. You interested in talking to him?”

Holden thought for a second. “Is the guy foaming at the mouth? I mean, just how crazy is he?”

“The weird thing is that he comes across as completely sane, nice, very down-to-earth. Until you listen to the words spilling out of his mouth, that is. Apparently he left Manson’s group a few months before the killings. At least the killings we know about,” Jack continued.

Holden considered the lack of pressing cases lined up for him and quickly decided. “Sure. Give me his phone number, and I’ll talk to him. Just on my off hours. This could be very interesting.”

“Whatever floats your boat, my friend,” Jack said.

The casual chumminess reminded Holden that he couldn’t recall the man at all, which made him feel oddly uncomfortable.  
“Well, Manson is sort of one of my hobbies,” Holden replied, wincing as he heard himself. “I mean, I find his case interesting. Thanks, Jack, I appreciate this.”

Holden decided to wait until he spoke to this former Manson follower before informing Bill. He’d assess his stability before agreeing to meet him in person. No matter how fascinating someone’s backstory was, it meant nothing coming from a raving lunatic.

The former Manson Family member, Drew Scott, came across well over the phone. He was plainspoken and self-deprecating, even admitting that many of Manson’s theories at least at first glance were hard to take seriously. Holden agreed readily to meet Drew at a coffee shop near Drew’s home in Virginia.

As Holden left his apartment to meet Drew, he decided to tell Bill about this after Holden could further assess Drew’s stability in person.

Holden entered the coffee shop and a man looked at him and instantly got to his feet, with a smile on his face. Holden sighed, knowing how much everything about his look screamed “FBI agent.”

Drew Scott looked older than his 37 years, with short graying brown hair and a thinning beard. He was medium height and weight. He looked nothing like Holden had been expecting, not matching his idea of an aging hippie. Then he remembered that Manson Family members were not precisely hippies, as Debbie had explained more than a few times. But Drew also didn’t match Holden’s idea of a lunatic. He looked basically like an ordinary man, maybe a middle management worker.

“Mr. Scott? I’m Holden Ford.” Holden said simply.

“I knew you were FBI because of the uniform. I mean, the suit. And the hair. But I certainly didn’t expect someone so young. Please call me Drew.”

“You can call me Holden. This is not an official interview. I’m just very fascinated by your experience. I, uh, always wear a suit,” Holden said self-consciously.

Drew nodded, still smiling.

Holden continued, “Drew, I want to start off by saying I will not be able to do anything to free Manson from prison. He is in a high-security prison and has been convicted of multiple counts of murder. There is no one who can change that fact.”

Drew’s smile fell a bit, but he quickly brightened and said, “Oh, I know. You might be able to help me more than you think, but despite what people say about Manson’s followers, I’m not crazy and I understand reality. I’m eager to tell my story to somebody in your position who is genuinely interested in Manson.”

“I am interested,” Holden admitted, “but I’m not a potential convert. You can’t change my perception of Manson as a criminal, whose only talent was his amazing charisma and ability to influence lost young people looking for acceptance.”

“Understood,” Drew nodded his head. “I”m not trying to proselytize, just convey information.”

Holden smiled for the first time since he entered the coffee shop. “I’m glad we understand each other. Thank you for agreeing to meet me.”

“Same here,” Drew said.

The two men ordered coffee and continued their conversation.

“So, Drew, what would you like to tell me?” Holden started.

“I want to explain to you how exhilarating and transforming being a disciple of Charlie Manson was, you know, before it all went off the rails,” Drew answered.

“You left shortly before the killings. Was that because things had changed for the worse?” Holden asked.

“Yes, and no. The reason I left was actually personal. I had fallen in love with another Family member, and she did not return my feelings. At least not exclusively. But the climate of the ranch did seem more toxic just before I left.”

Holden felt excited to actually be speaking with someone who had been so close to Manson. “How did you join the group, and what made you want to join?”

“I was 25 years old, alone, had fallen out with my parents five years before. I was lost and sad. Every relationship I had up till then ended badly. I thought there was something wrong with me. While hanging out on the Venice boardwalk, I met a girl who lived with Manson. She was so sweet and undemanding. I thought I could fall in love with her, but instead she introduced me to the Family. You know, I was a virgin until I joined them. Part of the initiation process was an orgy. I know, I know. Sounds creepy. But it wasn’t just sex. There was love involved too. In fact, we all had sex with each other, men and women, women and women, men and men. Except for Charlie. He would just direct things and watch,” Drew said.

Holden felt pinned to his seat with amazement. “He didn’t have sex? I mean, Manson?”

“Oh, he had sex with most all the girls, just in private,” Drew answered.

Drew continued, “There was such an atmosphere of warmth. And also, I have to admit, comfort in no longer needing to make our own decisions. Charlie made them all for us. And he cultivated a sense of us versus them, with them being everybody else not in the Family. I know that sounds negative, but it drew us all together, made us feel so close, closer than my family had ever been.”

Holden carefully considered his next words. “Did you believe he was Jesus Christ returned to earth?”

Drew paused, carefully studying Holden’s young, enthralled face. “I knew he was something more than a man. He had supernatural abilities, you know. He could control animals, the weather. He could heal. But I didn’t think he was God.”

Holden seemed less than satisfied with the answer, but he moved on. “Do you believe Manson was guilty of ordering the murders?”

Again, Drew paused, this time looking away. “Yes. I believe he felt forced to bring about what he called helter-skelter. The rise of the black man, the overthrow of the white man, and the eventual rise of the Family as the new people in the new Eden. The time was drawing near. I mean, he always felt we were running out of time. We wouldn’t be left alone for much longer. Now, I didn’t necessarily agree with these ideas. I mean, if such a thing came about naturally, fine. I mean, whites have been on top for so long, and we made such a mess of things. But forcing the issue by killing those rich white people and trying to blame it on the Panthers, that was too much.”

“So Manson made these ideas known to everyone in the Family?” Holden asked.

“Of course. It was the backbone of his philosophy. I realize it seems very, very selfish and self-serving now, but back then it seemed natural, true,” Drew said, smiling slightly.

“So, Drew, what do you want now? You know that Manson won’t be released soon, if ever,” Holden said quietly.

Drew quickly insisted, “I do believe there’s a way for him to be released. And I can have a part in it. I just need to get some attention for his cause. I can convince people that Charlie didn’t kill anyone himself. His hands are bloodless. And the members who killed Tate and the others have to accept true responsibility.”

“Drew, I already told you, convincing the general public won’t do anything toward freeing Manson. And there’s nothing else you can do. Can I convince you of that? If I can, then I’ll feel like I’m helping you,” Holden said earnestly.

Drew’s friendly demeanor finally dropped. “I don’t want that kind of help, Holden.”

“That’s the only kind of help I can give you. Please give up this impossible idea, Drew. You will never be happy until you do,” Holden pled.

Drew looked down and said, “It’s my goal, Holden. I’m willing to do anything short of violence to achieve this goal. I know Charlie told those kids to do terrible things, but there’s so much good in him, and he didn’t commit the acts himself. He deserves to be free.”

Holden said, “Drew, you seem to be a very decent, nice person, a good person. I wish I could help you in some way. But I told you from the start that I cannot do anything to help Manson.”

Drew sighed and said, “I understand, Holden. I appreciate you being straight with me. I’d like to keep in touch, tell you more of the positive things Charlie taught the Family. That is if you’re interested.”

Holden thought for a second, then realized he wouldn’t be able to resist. “Sure, Drew. I’ll give you a call later.”

“It was great to meet you, Holden. And you have helped me already. It’s a relief to talk about this with someone who doesn’t immediately judge me harshly,” Drew said shyly.


	2. Chapter 2

Holden thought about his meeting with Drew while walking to work. He was impressed with the man’s ability to talk so openly about subjects and ideas that he knew would likely antagonize or alienate a listener. Or maybe he just sensed Holden was open to such ideas. If he wasn’t an FBI agent and if he were perhaps a few years younger, would he have listened to Manson’s ideas with an open mind?

During another slow day in the basement at Quantico, Holden realized he should inform Bill of his meeting with Drew. He felt the need to unburden himself, even though he sensed Bill would not approve.

“You did what?” Bill Tench shouted at his partner. “What the hell is wrong with you, kid? Why would you want to listen to anything someone like that would say?”

Holden was not happy to have his expectations met. Bill was clearly not buying Holden’s concepts of understanding the unfathomable and gleaning gems of knowledge about the crime of the century.

“I’m not doing this on work time, Bill. It’s completely a personal thing,” Holden said guiltily. “I don’t think you need to shout at me.”

Bill gave Holden an exasperated look and said, “Oh, forgive me for upsetting your delicate sensibilities. Then why did you tell me?”

Holden mumbled, “I’m sorry I did now” and turned away from Bill.

Silence reigned for a while, then Bill suddenly said, “Holden, I’m glad you told me. You know why? So I can convince you to not see this guy anymore. Those people are dangerous. You have no idea what he’s capable of. You said he told you he’d do anything to free Manson.”

“Anything short of violence, Bill,” Holden said.

“And how much would it take for him to make that leap to `anything including violence?’” Bill asked pointedly.

“Bill, if you’re so worried, meet him with me. You can see for yourself how harmless Drew is. I feel sorry for him. He was led astray years ago, and he can’t seem to find his way back. I’m hoping to convince him to give up. Otherwise, he’s a normal guy. A science middle school teacher. Not a blemish on his record. Come on, Bill. You know you want to meet him,” Holden said.

Bill smirked. “This is not Kemper, and you’re not gonna convince me to join you this time, especially since it’s not work-related.”

The mention of Kemper seemed to deflate Holden a little, and Bill actually felt badly. “I’ll think about it, Holden, if only to protect you from yourself.”

Holden smiled and turned away.

A week later, Drew found himself at Quantico in an unused conference room. Bill allowed this breaking of rules only after the FBI main office and Shepard agreed to it disinterestedly. Trying their best to not deal with Holden at all, Bill assumed.

Drew entered with some trepidation. This was quite a bit different than a coffee shop, and the addition of Bill seemed to throw Drew for a loop.

“Am I being charged with some kind of crime here, Holden?” Drew asked nervously.

“Oh, no, not at all, Drew. It’s just a more private and convenient place for us to talk. I told Bill about you, and he was interested in meeting you and talking more about your experiences with the Family,” Holden informed him.

Drew gave an awkward smile and said, “Holden, I was hoping to just keep this between us.”

“It’s really okay, Drew,” Holden insisted, “Bill is my partner. You can trust him. I trust him completely.”

“Well, okay. Hi, Bill.” Drew held his hand out.

Bill shook his hand and said, “Nice to meet you, sir. I will do all I can to be fair to you. I will listen with an open mind and I will give my best advice. I understand Holden already explained that we cannot help in any possible way to free Manson. And I must inform you personally that neither do I want to. As far as I’m concerned, the man should die for his crimes, and though the Anderson ruling changed his punishment to life in prison, I feel that’s not what he deserves. If that makes my presence here intolerable, I’ll understand and leave. Just let me know.”

Drew looked anxious. “Uh, no, that’s okay. It’s kind of good to have someone at odds with my way of thinking and less open than Holden. As I told your partner, I am not a stranger to reality. I understand how things stand with Charlie. I’m just interested in telling my story and finding out if there’s any way I can help my former mentor. I’m fine with you staying.”

“Okay,” Bill said, taking a seat. “And I’ll try to stay as nonjudgmental as I can.” He gave a slightly forced smile to the former Family member.

Holden looked at Drew, sat down and gave him a genuine smile. “You know that Manson is now available for parole. In fact, in two years, he will be eligible for a parole hearing.”

Drew slanted a look at Holden as if he were a child. “Now, Holden, you know they’ll never parole Charles Manson. At least not now, with how he’s portrayed in the media and by law officials.”

“Drew, Bill and I were in San Francisco last year on a case. Kids on the street were wearing Charles Manson T-shirts. They were walking around in public with Manson’s face on their bodies. He’s a hero to the counterculture. I don’t quite understand why, but it’s a fact. You can’t know that sometime in the near future he won’t be paroled,” Holden said.

Bill visibly bristled, but kept quiet, waiting for Drew’s answer.

“You have the optimism of youth, Holden,” Drew said, and Holden frowned slightly, wondering just how old Drew thought he was. “Charlie’s wasting away in prison. He’s been incarcerated in one way or another most of his life. I just feel badly for him.”

“And what about the victims’ families, Drew?” Bill interrupted. “How do you think they’d feel if the killer of their loved ones went free after this short a time? Will they ever get to see their daughters, sons ever again? You think that’s fair?”

Drew looked away from Bill’s laser stare. “I understand your point of view, sir. I really do. I just feel Charlie’s served enough time.”

Holden glared at Bill, then turned to Drew. “You mentioned you were going to tell me about some of Char— Manson’s less violent ideas. What were they?”

Bill swung an incredulous glare Holden’s way. Holden looked quickly away from him.

Drew became animated again. “Love. Just pure love. That’s the thing that mattered most to Charlie. Well, that and freedom. We were starting a new world, one without rules and chains. Most of the time Charlie was kind and so full of a wondrous light.”

“What happened to that light before you left the ranch, Drew? The thing that made the atmosphere more toxic?” Holden asked.

“More shouting fits from Charlie. More anger. The worst were the rules creeping into our life. Don’t go past a certain point in the desert. Always let him know when we’re taking one of the vehicles for a drive. Things like that.” Drew seemed disinterested.

“And people started disappearing, right? A ranch hand? Shorty, was it?” Holden inquired.

“Yes. I’m sorry that things went so wrong. It wasn’t just Charlie. There were so many people who were trying to get some power. It wasn’t our beautiful world anymore.” Drew said, tears forming in his eyes.

After Drew left the conference room, Holden ignored Bill as long as he could. “Go ahead. Get it over with.”

“Holden, you’re playing with fire here. I know what Drew wants from you. What do you want from him? And try your best to be honest. I know you’re not used to it, but give it the old college try,” Bill said, fuming.

“I’m curious by nature, Bill. You know that. It’s part of what I am, and it’s part of what has made our interviews with the serial killers work. I’m not saying it’s the only thing, but it’s one of the things. Drew has first-hand knowledge of Charles Manson and the workings of the Family. I’m not trying to be morbid, but yes, I’m fascinated.” Holden spoke with passion.

“For God’s sake, Holden. This is a living human being we’re talking about, a man who clearly has mental issues, not to mention emotional problems. You are taking advantage of him and giving him hope where there is none. He thinks you’re going to help him,” Bill said.

Holden stood up. “Bill, the first thing I told him was that I couldn’t help him get Manson out of jail!”

“Maybe it should have also been the last thing you told him, because by the way he’s acting, he doesn’t really believe that,” Bill told his partner.

Holden paced the room, trying to take Bill’s words in.

Bill continued, “Holden, your curiosity isn’t worth the damage you’re doing to Drew. He thinks you’re going to help him. And you’re using him to get your serial killer rocks off.”

Holden whipped around, filled with anger. He even considered punching his coworker and friend. And superior. Instead, he took a deep breath, walked the perimeter of the conference room and finally made his way back to Bill.

“You’re right, Bill. I didn’t realize he still thought I could help him. I thought I made myself clear. But today, with you, he didn’t seem to understand that. I won’t see him again. I’ll call him and make sure I’m clear about not being able to do anything for him.” Holden said.

Bill calmed himself as well and answered, “Holden, you mean well, but sometimes you just don’t think things through. This wasn’t some harmless cult Drew was a part of. This was the Manson Family. However he appears to us, that man once believed he was better than everybody else, that he deserved to live while others didn’t. You don’t play with that, kid.”

Holden sat down heavily in a chair and covered his face with his hands.

“I’ll call him this evening,” Holden murmured. “I appreciate your honesty, Bill.”

Holden didn’t look up until Bill left the room.

“Drew, this is Holden Ford,” he said into the phone later that evening. “I need to say something to you.”

“Hi, Holden. What’s up?” Drew said cheerfully.

“I can’t see you anymore. I can’t talk to you anymore. I feel like I’m leading you on. There is nothing I can do to help you or to help Manson. He’s where he belongs, and if justice holds, he will never be free again. Even if he didn’t personally kill those people, he caused others to kill. He is guilty. Period. And I’m sorry if you thought I could do anything to change this.” Holden held his breath, waiting for a response.

“I see,” Drew answered. “Sorry for taking up your time. I thought you were interested.”

Holden sighed and said, “That is the problem. I am interested. But I still can’t help you.”

After a long pause which puzzled Holden, Drew said, “I do understand. Thanks for calling to tell me, Holden. You’re a good person.”

With that, Drew hung up. Holden sat in his chair holding his receiver for a few minutes, just wondering why he couldn’t seem to do anything right.

The next day Holden went to work and gave Bill a slight smile. Bill returned it with a bigger one of his own.

“He took it pretty well,” Holden said. “Not happy by any means, but he seemed to understand. I apologized.”

“Good for you, kid. You did the right thing,” Bill said.

“Yeah, for once,” Holden muttered under his breath.

Bill said, “Don’t do that, Holden. Don’t question yourself. This is life. It’s a learning experience. You’re young. Things get easier.”

“I’m young. Is that the problem?” Holden said, not really believing a word.

“That’s one of the problems, but you’re okay, kid. Just know you did the right thing in the end,” Bill said, putting a hand on Holden’s shoulder.

As Bill walked away, Holden wondered if he’d ever get used to Bill’s occasional displays of warmth.

Midday, Holden’s phone rang. It was Drew.

“Holden, I need to see you one more time. If you don’t come, I am going to kill myself. I swear to God. I know how to form a noose. It’s easy. Please come to my house. The address is 1214 Plaisdale Road. Do you understand?” Drew said calmly.

“Come on, Drew. Seriously? You said you understood. This is ridiculous,” Holden said, holding his head with his right hand. Bill turned around at the mention of Drew’s name.

“Holden, I just want to talk to you one more time. Come within the next hour, or I swear I will kill myself,” Drew said.

“Why can’t you say what you need to say on the phone right now?” Holden asked as Bill walked to Holden’s desk.

“Just get here as soon as you can,” Drew said, then hung up.

“What?” Bill asked, and Holden recounted the phone conversation.

“He sounds completely calm. I don’t know if I believe him, but I’m not sure if I want to take the chance,” Holden informed Bill.

Bill grabbed his phone and said, “We’ll go, both of us. And I’m calling in a unit to accompany us. I don’t trust this guy.”

As Holden and Bill approached Drew’s house, Drew came out the door and smiled at the two agents. “Hey, Holden. Bill.”

“What’s going on, Drew? Is this a joke?” Holden asked angrily.

“Let’s take a walk. There’s a nice courtyard a few blocks down,” Drew said cheerily.

Bill motioned to the police unit to follow them. “Drew, were you serious about killing yourself?” Bill asked.

“Yes. But I want to show you something. Don’t worry. Just you, Holden.” Drew began walking down the street, motioning Holden to follow.

“Bill, just follow in the car. I’ll meet you at the courtyard. I want to make sure he’s okay,” Holden said.

“What did you want to tell me, Drew?” Holden asked, walking fast to keep up with Drew.

Drew just smiled and kept walking at a quick pace. He didn’t speak until they reached the courtyard, with the police unit following. Bill exited the car and started walking toward the two men.

“What’s going on?” Bill shouted at Drew.

“Nothing. I just wanted to see Holden again. And I’ve seen him,” Drew said with a smile.

“Okay, then if you’re all right, Drew, we’ll leave,” Bill replied impatiently.

“Are you all right?” Holden asked Drew.

“Is this your curiosity speaking, Holden, or are you actually concerned?” Drew asked in a sarcastic tone of voice.

Bill began walking quickly to the police car, expecting Holden to be right behind him. But Drew quickly grabbed Holden’s right arm, squeezing hard.

“Hey,” Holden said, “what are you doing?”

“You’re staying with me,” Drew announced in a tone of voice that verged on angry.

“Let me go,” Holden spoke clearly and commandingly, though quietly.

Drew’s eyes softened a bit, but he removed an object from his inside coat pocket and rammed it hard into Holden’s side.

“I’m sorry, Holden. I have to do this. This will work. Believe me.”

Holden glanced down and saw the pistol pointed just below his ribs.

Holden sighed and took a deep breath. “Drew, this isn’t the way to get what you want. You have to know that. It doesn’t make any sense. How is this going to get Manson out of jail? Doing this will only get us both killed. Please, just give me the gun. I mean, is it even loaded?”

“Of course it is,” Drew answered, clearly offended. “I’ve thought hard about doing this. It’s the only way to draw attention to my cause.”

Bill finally turned around and noticed the two men standing closely, having some kind of intense conversation.

“Holden, let’s go. Come on.” Bill motioned with his arm for Holden to follow him.

“Bill, your partner’s not going anywhere. I’m sorry, but I’ve got a gun pointed at him. If you don’t give me what I want, I will shoot him,” Drew said apologetically.

Bill stared in confusion and exasperation. “Drew, that’s not in any way funny. Cut the shit. Holden, we’re late.”

“Bill, he’s not joking. He has a gun pointed at me,” Holden said clearly. Then he turned to Drew and said, “Drew, this has to stop. Nothing you want to happen will happen if you choose this path. I know from experience.”

Drew scoffed. “Experience? You’re just a kid. What kind of experience do you have?”

“I’m not a kid, Drew. I’m 29. I used to be a hostage negotiator, and in that position I witnessed over a dozen situations like the one you’re walking us into right now, and not a single one resulted in the man with the gun getting what he wanted,” Holden explained in a calm manner.

Bill, still somewhat flabbergasted, added, “He’s right, Drew. And I know from my vast experience as well. This isn’t going to end well.”

Drew sighed. “You guys aren’t taking me seriously. I know I’m kind of mild-mannered and been acting like your friend, but I swear to God, I will shoot Holden without hesitation if you don’t call the police and have me surrounded in the next ten minutes.”

Holden rolled his eyes and said, “Drew, you cannot be serious—“ And was cut off by Drew quickly raising the gun and slamming the weapon hard against Holden’s right temple.

Holden began to fall, but Drew grabbed his right arm and settled the young agent against his body until Holden regained his balance. A trickle of blood ran down the right side of Holden’s face.

“Drew!” Bill shouted. “For God’s sake, leave him alone!” Bill then attempted to rush the two men.

“Stop right there unless you want your partner dead right now!” Drew shouted in a voice Bill and Holden had not heard Drew use before now. It was the sound of desperation and hysteria. 

Bill stopped in his tracks, about ten feet away from Holden. “Kid, are you all right?”

Holden looked up blearily at Bill and muttered, “Ow. That really hurt. But I think I’m okay. Shit, Drew.”

“Shut up, Holden. I’m not Drew anymore. I’m the man holding you hostage. Bill, call the police. Sound the alarms— officer in jeopardy.”

Bill hesitatingly turned toward the car to make the call. He got on the police radio and informed them an officer-related hostage situation was taking place. The officer driving the car removed his gun and aimed it toward the two men.

“Drew, I feel really dizzy. I have to sit down,” Holden said, putting a hand to his wound.

“Sorry, no. I know what you’re doing. I won’t fall for it. I’m sorry I hit you so hard, but I had to get across how serious I am. Do you understand now?” Drew almost pled.

Holden replied, “No, I don’t understand. Doing this will not get Manson the kind of attention that you or he wants. Getting yourself and me killed will not free him from prison. I apologize for not taking you seriously before. I was fascinated, and I didn’t do my job.”

“And what was your job?” Drew asked.

“Convince you that you’re not thinking clearly,” Holden answered.

“You mean, I’m crazy.” Drew frowned.

“Not crazy. Misguided. Confused. Drew, you really did hit me hard. I’m not joking. I don’t feel good. I may need some medical help,” Holden said, attempting to change the subject.

Drew smiled slightly, “That won’t work either. I know I hurt you, but you must understand, that doesn’t matter to me anymore. You don’t matter. I will hurt you much worse if I have to.”

“But you don’t have to. We can go somewhere, sit, talk this all out. There’s got to be some compromise we can reach,” Holden begged.

Drew sighed with disgust. “And I thought you understood. Of course I was just a joke to you. The sad sack with the nutty ideas. I do know how I sound, really, I do. And I would do anything to not have to do this. But you know why I have no choice. If ever you understood me in the slightest, please accept what’s happening.”

Holden swallowed hard. He wasn’t sure how to negotiate with someone who sounded convincingly sane while espousing insane ideas. “Drew, I was trying to understand how you could believe in someone so strongly. Someone who committed such horrifying acts. I’ve never believed in anyone or anything with that kind of surety and passion. But no, Manson is nothing but a terrible human being. But you’re a good one, and you need to save yourself.”

“So you never understood,” Drew said, tears filling his eyes.

“No, Drew. And I’m sorry.” Holden felt honestly terrible.

Drew pulled himself together with a deep sigh and, looking down at his feet, said, “Doesn’t matter. Makes everything easier actually.”

Bill walked back to the two men, keeping his distance. “Troops are on their way, Drew. This is your last chance to back out. Give yourself up to me, and we’ll make sure you’re treated fairly by the law.”

“You never understood,” Drew said directly to Bill.

Drew shoved the gun into Holden’s side again, drawing up future bruises and a pained grunt from Holden.

“Take it easy, Drew,” Bill warned in a stern voice.

Wailing sirens approached the scene, and Drew broke into a wide and relieved smile. “It’s happening,” he murmured to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Five squad cars and an ambulance pulled up to the courtyard, tires screeching on the cement. Doors were flung open and used by officers as shields to hunker down behind. Guns were pulled and aimed at the three men, and warning shouts of “Freeze” and “Put the gun down” echoed back to a satisfied Drew.

A man in plainclothes slowly approached the three men. Holden smiled wearily. The hostage negotiator.

“Sir, my name is Norris Schoenfeld, and I’m with the Harrisburg Police Department. I’m here to give you whatever you want. Just ask,” the man said in a soothing tone of voice.

Drew gave Norris a genuine smile and responded, “Hi. My name is Drew. If anyone comes near me, I will kill this young FBI agent. I have a gun currently in his side and my finger on the trigger.”

Norris interrupted, “Drew, there is absolutely no reason for you to do that. What do you want? Let him go, and I will give it to you.”

Drew shifted his feet slightly, appearing nervous, as if realizing his big moment was finally here. “What do I want? I want Charles Manson released from prison. He is a prisoner of war, the war between the just and the unjust. Barring that, you’ll have to shoot me. I’m willing to die for this cause.”

Holden spoke up. “I don’t think Drew would actually shoot me, Mr. Schoenfeld, but I believe he’s serious.”

“Thank you, Holden,” Drew muttered. Norris gave them both a confused look.

“Sir, just let the agent go. You haven’t hurt anyone yet. It’s not too late,” Norris continued.

Drew said, “But I have hurt him already. See the blood on his face? I hit him with the gun.”

Norris checked Holden out, then said, “I see the blood. That’s not good, but it’s still not too late. Just put the gun down and raise your hands in the air. Everything will be fine.”

Holden tried to clear his head enough to engage Drew. “I don’t want them to kill you, Drew. This is partly my fault. I found your situation so engaging and interesting, and I forgot to be an officer of the law. I became your curious student. What can I do that will make you stop this?”

“Absolutely nothing, Holden,” Drew said calmly.

“There’s no way out of this?” Holden asked. “Please give yourself up, Drew. I’m begging you. There’s no good end this way. Will you just hand the gun to me?”

“No, Holden,” Drew answered firmly.

Drew took a deep breath and shouted, “I’m gonna kill this kid, and it’s going to be your fault for imprisoning the master, Charles Manson!” 

The tension was at its height at that moment, with chaos just a finger twitch away. Holden suddenly grabbed Drew’s gun hand and pointed it away from himself and said as loud as he was able to after an hour of stress and attempted negotiation, “Don’t shoot!” 

Seeing the weapon pointed away from the hostage seemed to set off something in the officers. A barrage of gunfire erupted as if triggered by the sight. Drew and Holden fell together to the ground, lying motionless.

Bill ran towards them as quickly as he could, his heart pounding with fear. Both Holden and Drew were covered in blood. Drew’s eyes were open and fixed, and he was clearly dead.

“Holden, shit! Are you okay?” Bill shouted as he eyed Holden’s formerly white, crisp shirt now stained crimson.

“It’s not my blood, Bill,” Holden answered shakily. A handful of officers approached the three men with guns pointed.

“The guy’s dead. It’s all right,” Bill informed them, and they lowered their weapons.

Bill approached Holden carefully. The young man was pale as a sheet, visibly shaking.

“It’s all right, Holden. Just let’s get you up.” All Bill wanted to do was get Holden away from the corpse and into a warm ambulance. He gently reached out his hand to Holden, who raised a trembling hand to grab Bill’s. Holden’s hand was cold as ice and he swayed slightly as he stood. Bill quickly put an arm around his shoulder.

“Is he dead?” Holden asked.

“The paramedics will have to announce it, but yeah, I think he is,” Bill answered.

Holden took a few steps and suddenly groaned and stopped.

“What’s wrong, Holden?” Bill asked, concerned.

Holden felt gingerly below his ribs on the right side of his body and groaned again.

“I think maybe this isn’t all his blood,” he muttered and began to crumple. Bill grabbed his left arm and helped him to the ground.

“Paramedics! Over here! Officer down!” Bill shouted with panic coloring his voice.

Bill looked down at Holden’s pale, sweaty face and shaking body and quickly realized what he initially thought was emotional shock was much more than that. There was a clear bullet wound on the right side of his stomach, and blood was pouring out of the hole.

“Holden, you’re going to be okay. Paramedics are here. Hang in there, okay, kid?” Bill begged.

Holden’s half-lidded eyes slowly slid over to Bill’s face and he said, “Don’t worry, Bill. It doesn’t even hurt too much. I’m just feeling cold.”

Bill quickly slid his own jacket off his torso and placed it over Holden. He heard the paramedics running towards them, but couldn’t stop feeling terrified over Holden’s condition. The kid had been through so much in the past hour, and for it to end like this was unbearable.

“Bill, don’t call my parents, okay?” Holden asked.

“Okay, Holden. But you’re gonna be all right. Stay with me, right?” Bill said, comforting the man with a hand to his cold cheek.

But Holden didn’t answer. His eyes were closed and his breathing ragged. The paramedics gently moved Bill out of the way and started working on Holden, cutting his shirt open and setting up an IV.

“He said he was really cold, and his skin is like ice,” Bill shouted at the men working on Holden.

“He’s in shock. The IV will help, and we’ll cover him with a warming blanket. Don’t worry. We know what we’re doing,” a paramedic soothed.

Bill followed the ambulance in the police car, feeling sick to his stomach. Holden’s blood covered his hands and his jacket, his shirt. His mind sped through the last few days, and he kept wondering if he should have done something different. He felt a little bit in shock himself.

Bill called a vacationing Wendy and then Shepard to alert them to the situation once he was at the hospital. A kind nurse offered him a surgical smock to change into after she saw his blood-splattered clothing. After changing, Bill felt cleaner but mismatched with his dress slacks.

The emergency room waiting area was fairly quiet, but Bill sensed a flurry of activity where Holden was being worked on. His level of worry increased every minute. Nobody came out to let him know how Holden was, so he could only assume the worst, that it was taking a long time to stabilize Holden, if he was even still alive.

Finally, a man exited the emergency room and informed Bill that Holden had lost a lot of blood, was not out of the woods yet, and was unconscious in the ICU. Bill begged his way into the ICU unit to see his partner and was discomfited by seeing Holden bandaged, pale as the dead and completely unmoving but for his steady if ragged breathing.

The staff eventually sent Bill home. He spent the evening robotically eating what he was sure was a delicious meal Nancy had cooked and watching Brian quietly playing with his toys. Nancy asked about Holden’s condition, but then left Bill alone to stew in silence.

The next few days were spent visiting Holden, then going to the office. The young man stubbornly remained unconscious, and the doctors were hopeful but cautious about his prognosis. They explained about blood loss, the trauma from the surgery to remove the bullet from his intestines. And Bill felt like he was a zombie, walking around, eating, drinking, poring over files for new cases, but not feeling like he was actually present. 

Bill was visiting when Holden finally showed signs of waking. He moaned behind the oxygen mask. He moved his left arm. Then a leg. Finally his eyes blinked open, though at first there was no sign of further consciousness in them. He just stared. Then his eyes slid over to Bill standing over him and he looked confused and tired. Bill was so relieved he almost cried. Instead he smiled and nodded at Holden.

A few days later, Holden was doing well enough to sit up, or be tilted up in bed, and he said his first words to Bill— “I can’t remember. Is Drew dead?”

Bill nodded solemnly and said, “Yes, Holden. He died at the scene. There was nothing you could have done.”

Holden looked out the hospital room window at the night sky. “I’m not even sure if Drew shot me. It could have been the police.”

Bill shook his head. “An investigation is under way. But doesn’t matter. Drew set up the dangerous situation, and he’s responsible for your injury.”

Holden moved cautiously and groaned. He said, “I did everything wrong. He’d still be alive if he’d never met me.”

“You don’t know that, Holden. He seemed okay, but he was clearly insane. It was just a matter of time,” Bill reassured.

Holden stared at Bill as if he was lying to him. Then he closed his tired eyes and said, “I feel like I’m doing the right thing, but then it turns out I’m doing the wrong thing. I think there’s something wrong with me.”

“It’s the medication talking, kid. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Bill said lightly.

“I must have been almost dead. You don’t usually lie to make me feel better,” Holden said bitterly.

Bill looked up at Holden’s face finally. “You learn from your mistakes, Holden.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s life, right? Because I’m young. That’s what you said before,” Holden said, tears forming in his bloodshot eyes.

“Yeah, that’s right, Holden. Live and learn,” Bill said firmly.

“Someday soon I won’t be young, but I’ll still be doing things for the wrong reasons,” Holden murmured quietly.

Bill answered, “Not if you know you’re doing it. See? You’re already learning.”


End file.
